Sticky Sweet
by Brittany Lynne Hobbs
Summary: Matthew had always loved maple syrup. Though he was always quiet, and seldom said more than "maple," he never imagined that it would take him to a whole new level. With Gilbert. PruCan, One-Shot, obscene use of expensive Canadian maple syrup. Put -this- on your pancakes.


**… I'm ashamed to admit that I wrote this, in less than an hour. It was written entirely for Haily, the only person who I could possibly stand writing something like this for. xD**

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There were two types of messes you could get into in bed; there was a hot mess, and a sticky mess. Then there was the fetish that took both of those into Jedi level. Gilbert was currently sprawled out on all fours above his young lover, and absolutely lustful hunger gleaming in his crimson eyes. Matthew lay completely exposed beneath the Prussian, a thick trail of rich, thick maple syrup slipping down his body, all the way to his aching member. Gilbert chuckled, nipping at the Canadian's nose, "Well, aren't you just sweet." He purred, taking one finger and swiping it through a line of maple syrup, bring it to his lips and sucking it off as slowly and seductively as he possibly could, "Mm… I'll bet you taste even sweeter."

Matthew bucked his hips anxiously beneath the other nation, whimpering almost impatiently. Prussia chuckled, pressing his lips against the Canadian's briefly, the sickly sweet taste of syrup transcending between the two. Gilbert slowly separated his lips from Matthew's, tracing them down the boy's jawline, down his neck, any worry about leaving a mark completely gone from his mind. Matthew let out a small, pleasurable noise that was almost a moan, though he knew full well that the best was yet to come. Literally.

Gilbert looked back up at the blonde boy for a mere moment, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he slipped his tongue along the trail of maple flavored substance cascading down the Canadian's bare body. Matthew's nerves were nearly screaming in every ounce of pleasure they could possibly detect, a visible shudder running through his body as the white-haired man's tongue began to get almost _dangerously_ close to his throbbing member. Though he didn't have Prussia's five meters of awesome, it didn't mean the appendage possessed any less desire than that of his lover.

Prussia's syrup covered lips wrapped around the boy's length; though the roles were typically reversed with the two nations, there was just _something_ almost indescribable about syrup all over Matthew that made Prussia lose all sense of pride and control, gave him the desire to do anything in his power, to please the boy, to arouse him to the fullest extent he possibly could. And then some. The Prussian man slipped the tip of his tongue along the full extent of the boy's erect member, flicking it across the head. Matthew let a gasp escape his already panting lips, moaning softly, sweetly as he felt his lover's mouth surrounding him.

Matthew watched with much desire as the man took him into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down vigorously, his moans only growing louder and more passionate. Prussia wasn't going to let him get away this easily, though. Oh no; he wasn't one for a quick fix, not here and not now. The man lead his lips back up the boy's member once more, letting his lips pop off of the head, leaving a dangling trail of saliva and syrup hanging between his lips and Matthew's length. The Canadian groaned, "G-Gilbert… D-Don't stop!" he panted, squirming restlessly against the bed

Prussia broke the dangling trail and leaned up to the bedside table, pulling a glass bowl from it; more syrup. Seeing as he'd already licked most of it off, he saw nothing more reasonable than to smear more on the boy. His own member was growing quite firm, but he held out. He held out for one reason and one reason only; it would be that much _sweeter_ when he finally gave in himself. The white-haired man dipped two long, pale fingers into the bowl and pulled them back out, dripping with syrup, and traced them along the boy's inner thighs, smirking with satisfaction as he squirmed profusely, moaning and panting as he did.

Gilbert set the dish down beside him, careful to make sure it wouldn't tip, then slid his hands around the boy's hips, flipping him over on the bed in one quick, fluid motion, smiling with delight as the Canadian let out a small gasp of surprise. The Prussian stuck his fingers in the bowl again, only this time, he brought them to the boy's entrance, teasing and tracing before bringing his own member up. It was already coated in a thick layer of the sticky sweet substance, practically throbbing with pent up tension. He could barely contain himself as he slid his length into the Canadian's entrance, moving inch by delicious inch.

Matthew gripped the at the bed sheets, letting out a cry, "Oh, Gil! M-More! P-Please!" he moaned, arching his back to try and release some of the pleasure he was feeling. His senses were already on complete overload, and he had no clue how to let out all the sensory overload of raw pleasure he was receiving from the white-haired nation. Prussia reached around, a syrup covered hand finding the boy's hardened member, fingers closing around it with just enough pressure to feel good. The elder nation quickly slipped into a steady rhythm, hand sliding up and down the Canadian's member as he began thrusting his swollen length in and out of the boy's entrance.

Soon, the speeds matched, and what had once been somewhat congealed syrup was now thin and runny due to nothing less than excess friction pounding against it. The Prussian leaned his head back, panting heavily as he tried to hold out for just a few more precious seconds. It seemed, however, that the Canadian couldn't. Not after all the teasing he'd been subjected to. The Canadian let out one more moan before he came, the sticky substance spurting all over the sheets below him. Nearly on cue, the Prussian let out two more pounding thrusts before his aching cock was finally relieved of the unbearable pressure, his own semen converging with syrup within the Canadian.

Gilbert let out a deep breath, pulling out of the boy's entrance one last time, a trail of the warm, sticky syrup mixture seeping down the Canadian's legs as he fell back in the bed, looking up at the Prussian, features glowing with the wonderful after effects. Gilbert merely smirked, falling down next to him, "I was right," he began, almost gloating, "You _are_ sweeter."


End file.
